Pushing for Results
by T-c3
Summary: Eames shows Ariadne how he forges his appearance, and she inadvertently discovers something about his past with Arthur. Sequel to "Satisfying an Inquisitive Mind," but you don't have to read it to understand what's going on.


Disclaimer: It all belongs to Nolan. I'm just borrowing.

A/N: I changed the tense by accident, but I'm too lazy to make the two fics match. Also, I played around with how Eames forges people.

Warning: Yes, there is slash. If you're not a fan, then it's probably not wise to keep reading.

* * *

"So how is Browning coming along?" Ariadne asked, handing Eames a mug of coffee.

"Quite well." He took a sip and closed his eyes, a look of pleasure spreading across his face. According to him, she made the best pot of coffee. "I could show you, if you'd like. Yusuf mentioned that he needed to run a few more tests with the sedative."

Her eyes lit up at the offer. She'd been dying to actually see how it worked, since explanations weren't enough for her. Ariadne nodded her head enthusiastically. "I'd love to! I can try out some ideas I have for my Level 2 maze while we're there."

"Excellent. Go tell Yusuf we'll be his guinea pigs today. I'm sure Arthur will be happy to know he's in the clear." Eames gave a chuckle, most likely thinking about the kick tests Arthur was subjected to the day before. "Just let me finish this splendid brew."

Ariadne grinned and went over to the chemist's work station.

o-o-o

When she opened her eyes, she found herself sitting at the bar. It felt strange to be there without projections, but it was also a relief. Although, Eames was nowhere to be seen. Ariadne got up from the stool and walked around, her footsteps echoing almost eerily. When she finally reached the lobby, she saw the back of a grey head in one of armchairs.

Once she was facing him, she couldn't help but gasp. She had seen photos of Browning posted up, and this man was Browning down to every wrinkle. She had no way of knowing if the mannerisms were correct, but she found the image itself to be impressive.

"Hello, Mr. Browning. I do hope you're enjoying our hotel."

The man laughed and got to his feet. Straightening out his tie, he responded, "Very much. The décor is tasteful, and the staff is pleasant. One of the best hotels I've stayed at."

Ariadne couldn't hold back anymore. Laughter bubbled up her throat and filled the empty space around them. She wasn't even sure what was so funny. When she blinked, the older gentlemen standing before her was the rakishly handsome Eames. Her laughter turned into a squeak, and she jumped back. "God, Eames! Is it really that easy to lose the form?"

"Easy to lose, yes." He put his hands in his pockets, giving her a lopsided grin. There was amusement in his eyes, along with something else that Ariadne couldn't decipher. Pride, maybe? Then she wondered how frequently he got to show off to someone like this. "But as I've told you, it takes a lot more effort to gain the form."

"Can you show me?"

"Who would you like me to be?"

She wanted to give him a challenge, and she wanted it to be someone she knew. It wasn't just the form she was interested about, but how he actually copied them as a person. Then she had the perfect test. "Arthur."

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Alright, but don't tell him. The last time I forged his appearance, he punched me in the gut."

That didn't surprise her.

Eames closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The transformation seemed to be in slow motion to Ariadne, but it really only took a few seconds. First, his body slimmed down, the suit along with him. Then the bone structure of his face shifted under his skin, which lightened in tone. His hair became shorter and slicked back. He opened his blue-gray eyes, but after he blinked, they were a deep brown. Once it was complete, Ariadne actually stopped breathing for a moment.

Holding his arms out slightly, the forger asked, "Well, what do you think?"

Even the voice was perfect. All she could do was stare.

"I usually need a mirror when I'm copying someone," he said nonchalantly, looking down at himself.

She understood what lied beneath that comment. Eames knew Arthur inside and out, every perfection and imperfection. She began to wonder what that implied, if her suspicions were correct.

Suddenly, Not-Arthur closed the distance between them and took her chin in his hand. "You really are beautiful, Ariadne," he whispered. Then he lowered his head as if to kiss her, but she roughly pushed him away, extremely flustered. "What?" Not-Arthur crossed his arms and smirked, an expression that didn't look right on that face. "I thought you like him."

"Wha- I- That's not fair!" Ariadne shouted, now livid. "You have no right doing something like that! It's not only disrespectful to me, it's disrespectful to Arthur!"

The smirk was dropped in an instant and was replaced with an expression of cool anger. He looked so much like Arthur that it sent a chill down her spine. "And asking me to take his form isn't?"

"That's . . . that's not the same thing! Besides, whether I like him or not doesn't matter." She still wasn't sure. There was a big chance that she had just been reading too much into their actions, but there wasn't anyone around to overhear. She figured she might as well just come out and say it. "Don't _you_ like him?"

His eyes widened and the form was lost. Eames stared at her, his mouth working open and closed like he couldn't decide what to say. It was quite a while before he actually spoke, and when he did, it was without emotion. "No, I don't."

She didn't buy it.

"Then why did it take you so long to answer?" Then she decided to be a little bold with her speculation. "C'mon. I've seen the way you interact with him. Why don't you just admit it already?"

Ariadne thought she was used to his sudden changes in expression, but his look of anger was so intense that she started backing away. His fists were clenched at his sides, and while she knew he would never lay a hand on her, she couldn't stop the unease from creeping in.

When he spoke, it was in a growl. "Don't you even dare _think_ you know what you're talking about. You only came into this world two weeks ago. You don't know a _fucking_ thing."

Pressing herself up against the wall, she was actually afraid. Technically, it was her dream. She could change the layout so that a new wall would come between them or that the floor would collapse under Eames' feet. But those options were her last resort. She really just wanted him to calm down.

Swallowing hard, Ariadne tried to quell her nervousness. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to pry. I swear I'll never mention it again."

Her words appeared to snap him out of his anger. He turned away from her and rubbed at his left temple, looking exhausted. "No, I . . . I'm the one who's sorry. That was inexcusable. I just . . . It's a sore topic."

All Ariadne did was nod.

Eames practically fell onto one of the armchairs and repeatedly ran a hand through his hair. "I was an idiot back then," he almost whispered.

When it seemed as though he wasn't going to continue, Ariadne walked up to him, sat in the armchair next to his, and waited. She wasn't going to force anything out of Eames, but if he wanted to talk about it, then she would listen.

"It's a bloody miracle he even looks at me now, but he never was one to hold a grudge for very long." Eames didn't look at her as he spoke, just stared at nothing as memories were obviously flashing through his mind. Ariadne wondered if he had ever talked about it to anyone before. "If he would give me a second chance, I wouldn't even have to think it over." He smiled, and it nearly broke her heart. "Although, I greatly doubt his feelings towards me go beyond that of tolerance at this point."

Ariadne had to speak up. She couldn't stand seeing him that way. "I don't believe that at all. I've seen him look at you when he thinks no one is paying attention. I can't be positive, but it almost seemed like there was longing in his eyes."

Glancing at her, he laughed weakly. "You're sweet for trying to get my hopes up, but I know I don't have a shot."

"Whatever you did can't be _that_ bad."

Eames stared at her, his mouth a thin line.

"Okay . . . Well, at least you still having feelings for him has to count for something. I mean, how many years has it been, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Six."

She blinked in surprise. "Wow, really?"

"Pathetic, right?"

"No, no," she said desperately. "That just shows how devoted you are to him."

Eames shook his head. "If I was devoted to him, I wouldn't have slept with other people since then."

"Well, sex and love are two very different things. Have you loved anyone else in those six years?"

"You're assuming I love him."

"Don't you?"

Eames opened his mouth, but then he quickly shut it. He never answered the question, just stared ahead, out the floor to ceiling windows and into the empty street.

"There's no harm in trying," Ariadne suggested quietly.

"After inception, if we make it out in one piece." Eames looked at her, determination set in his face. "It'll give me a little more incentive."

She shot him an amused look. "The money and the challenge seems to be enough incentive for you."

Chuckling, he replied, "You know me better than I thought." The forger slapped his knees and stood. He was back to being his easygoing self, much to Ariadne's relief. "You said you wanted to work on the level. Why don't you go do that while I wander around a bit? I'm curious what you'll be putting Arthur through, since he'll be left on his own when we go down."

"Right, sounds like a plan."

After they went their separate ways, Ariadne found that she couldn't focus on the dream. Her mind was buzzing with the information that Arthur and Eames used to be together. Knowing how much it pained Eames, she felt a tightness in her chest when she thought about all their interactions. Eames was always playful, while Arthur was always irritated. She frowned. No, that wasn't right. Arthur acted like Eames drove him insane, but there had been occasions where he was playful right back. They acted like old friends at times, which probably wasn't far off from the truth.

Ariadne would never ask either of them what happened. While she tended to be a rather nosy person, there were certain lines she wouldn't cross. Mostly, it was because she didn't think whatever their history was together would put the team at risk during inception. She could tell that they were both able to put aside personal matters and get the job done. Cobb was a completely different story.

When time ran out, Yusuf proudly announced that the test was successful. Ariadne looked over at Eames as she took out her IV, but his attention was elsewhere. Following his gaze, she saw Arthur talking with Cobb.

"How is the maze coming along?" Yusuf asked her.

"Huh? Oh! Great!" She smiled, but she could feel the fakeness of it.

o-o-o

Ariadne hated just sitting there, not being able to do anything, but she knew Arthur felt the same way. For now, their job was to wait.

The projections started getting suspicious, and when Arthur asked her to kiss him, she obeyed without a second thought. She was so engrossed in the job that she'd momentarily forgotten everything she'd learned about him and Eames. When she realized he was just teasing, she got slightly miffed.

"Don't do that."

He was still smiling at her. "Sorry. It won't happen again. You're too nervous."

"As if that would help," Ariadne muttered, trying to ignore the projections wondering stares. "You and Eames seem to have been getting along a lot better," she blurted out. _Damn, I really _must_ be nervous._ In an attempt to cover herself, she continued, "I mean, it's preferred that everyone on the team works well together."

"Yes, that's true," he replied, eyebrow raised.

She couldn't stop herself from asking. There was a good chance that they weren't going to make it through this. She just had to know. "You don't . . . hate him, right?"

Arthur looked at her as though she were delirious. "No, I don't. What makes you think that?"

She shrugged. "I guess 'hate' is a strong word."

"It's not that. I—" He cut himself off. It was time to move.

o-o-o

The relief in the cabin was palpable. Once Cobb and Saito awoke, everyone was simply elated. Ariadne could have cried.

When they got off the plane, she felt a pat on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Eames walk passed her. To keep up the act, no one spoke to each other, only offered smiles and faint nods of the head. After Cobb was officially in the clear, she let herself completely relax. Fischer left shortly after, and that was when everyone started shaking hands. When Saito held his hand out to Eames, the forger looked at it for a moment before bringing him into a hug. Ariadne had to laugh at the stunned look on the businessman's face. Then she gave out her own hugs, telling them all to keep in touch. She gave Eames an extra squeeze and glanced at Arthur.

"Can we pretend I never said that?" he asked, hopeful. But his wide grin said otherwise.

Ariadne punched him lightly in the arm. "Don't chicken out. He's in a good mood right now." Slinging her carry-on over her shoulder, she added, "You better tell me what happens afterwards."

He laughed and nodded, making his way over to the point man.

She watched for a moment as Eames talked to him. Ariadne couldn't hear a word, but she felt satisfied when she saw Arthur smile. Then she grabbed her luggage and headed towards the crowd of waiting people, hoping she could still catch Cobb before he took off.

o-o-o

Six days later, Ariadne got a text while she was sitting in Cobb's backyard, enjoying a cup of tea with Miles. When she saw it was from Eames, anxiety swept over her. She had expected to hear from him earlier and was already fearing the worst. But when she opened the message, she couldn't stop herself from letting out a whoop of joy.

Cobb had walked over to get a drink of water, clearly needing to take a breather from running around with his children. Nodding towards her cell, he asked, "Who's it from?"

"Eames." She handed him the phone so he could see for himself.

_You can say "I told you so" anytime._

And below was a picture of Eames kissing a slightly annoyed Arthur on the cheek.


End file.
